Revenge
by Voyager Tip
Summary: Even after just a few months together, the judge and McCormick have made enemies. And enemies often want revenge.
1. The Scare

Ch 1 The Scare

The phone rang twice before McCormick rolled over and reached for the receiver.

"Hello?" he said as he squinted at the clock, it was 4 am.

"McCormick." It was a statement, not a question, and the voice was flat, without any kind of emotion.

"Yeah, who's this?" Mark asked.

"Mark McCormick." Another flat statement.

Mark was instantly awake, all his senses on the alert. He stood quickly and glanced out the window.

Click. The dial tone left him with a shiver. Then he thought of the judge and called the main house.

"What?" Hardcastle answered groggily.

Relief flooded through him as he heard the judges voice. "Judge, you okay?"

"McCormick, it's 4 am."

"Is everything okay over there?"

"Other than me being awake at 4 am, sure…. why?"

Mark paused, feeling like he had overreacted, "I...uh...just got a prank phone call, that's all." He paused, not knowing how to continue, then, "I'm gonna go out and walk around the grounds."

"Wait for me out front," Hardcastle answered. It seemed like an over reaction, but he didn't want the kid walking around outside alone.

ooOoo

Five minutes later, Hardcastle carried his shotgun out to meet McCormick. They walked together down to the gate and around the grounds. All was quiet.

ooOoo

"I don't see what the big fright is if all he said was your name. Anybody could have found that out, doesn't mean he's a serial killer or anything," Milt said as he filled a glass of water and sat down at the kitchen table after they returned for their tour of the grounds.

"It was the tone of his voice judge, it sounded...dead or something."

"I think your imagination is working double-time McCormick."

Mark frowned and glanced out the window, "I hope so," he whispered.

"Dreams can seem very real..."

"It wasn't a dream judge!" Mark interrupted him loudly.

"Listen kiddo, once I dreamed that my wife did something wrong and I was mad at her for a whole day, even though I knew it was a dream. But it seemed so real, I was actually mad at her. Couldn't it have been like that? It was a dream that scared you, so you feel scared for a day?"

"No judge, it wasn't like that," McCormick told him angrily. "And I'm not scared, just…. trying to be careful!" he stood up, threw down his napkin and stalked out.

The judge stared after him, a look of concern on his face.

Mark entered the Gatehouse and slammed the door, then marched up the steps, determined to get some more sleep before Hardcastle decided it was time to start the day.

The phone rang as he sat down on the bed to take off his shoes. He sighed and picked it up.

"What is it judge?" he asked, certain the judge was trying to rattle his cage.

There was silence at first and Mark felt his heart speed up, "have a nice day Mark," said the dead sounding voice before the line went dead.

ooOoo

A half hour later they sat together in the den.

"Shouldn't we at least let the police know?" Mark asked.

"Well, so far, all it is, is words. And the words aren't even threatening," Hardcastle said. "From their standpoint, there isn't any evidence, nothing to investigate."

"What about my statement? I can describe the voice."

Hardcastle shook his head, "all hearsay, until something happens, they can't help us."

"Great."

"Look, is there anyone who would play a joke on you?"

Mark shook his head, "not one like this."

"Are you sure? Someone you knew in prison? That little girl you were dating over at the college, she have a boy friend? Kids can pull crazy stunts…"

Mark shook his head, "I've gone through everybody I can think of judge. I just don't know.

ooOoo

Hardcastle poured 2 cups of coffee at 8 am and handed one to the ex-con.

"I think you're losin it McCormick. I'll be back tomorrow night, and those calls you got are not an excuse to slack off on the chores. Keep busy and you'll stay out of trouble. Now, I left a list of extra chores on the dining room table, and I expect em to be done. And, if I hear that anyone has been here for any reason McCormick, I'll kick your butt back to San Quentin faster that you can imagine."

Mark leaned back and sighed. "Judge, come on, I'm not going to do anything wrong while you're gone."

"I've got 2 things to say to you about that kiddo."

"Yeah, what?" Mark asked, annoyed. It was unbelievable to him that the judge didn't trust him after they had been working together for the past 4 months.

"Teddy Hollings was living in the Gatehouse for a week, that's number one," and he watched McCormick cringe, "and how about this, 'trust me'", and he did a decent imitation of McCormick's plea, just before he left the jurist alone on the side of the highway.

Silence.

McCormick hesitated and then sighed again. "Come on judge, neither of those things will happen again," he offered uncertainly.

"And I wouldn't leave you alone again this soon either if I didn't have to. Now, all you have to do, is stay here and do your chores. Do you think you can do that for me kiddo?"

Mark swallowed hard and sighed, "yes."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow night."

And then he was gone and McCormick was alone at the estate.


	2. The Lair

Ch 2 H&amp;M The Lair

"Have a nice day Mark" said the dead voice, then he hung up the phone and smiled.

"Won't he be harder to take down now?" asked the beautiful blonde as she leaned back in the chair. "It seems like you just warned him."

The man laughed, his voice back to normal. "It's more fun to scare him a little. We can take him down easy enough, don't worry about that."

"I spent some time with him and I'd say he seemed pretty capable. I don't think it's gonna be so easy."

"He'll be outnumbered. I won't let him get away, I want him. I'll never forget what he cost me… cost us. Him and Hardcastle… and they'll both pay, you can believe that!" his anger barely contained.

"You said Hardcastle has an arsenal at Gulls Way.."

"Shhh" he interrupted her, putting his finger gently against her lips, he whispered, "he'll be outnumbered, don't worry, come on to bed darling."

And she slipped out of her robe and went to him.


	3. A Bit of Innocent Deception

Ch 3 A Bit of Innocent Deception

Milton C. Hardcastle smiled as he drove away. He always felt good when he was pushing the kid's buttons, it kept both of them on their toes. But, though he didn't tell McCormick, this little excursion was one way he could prove to the kid that he really did trust him. After all, he could've brought him along on the operation, the kid could learn a lot from Frank Harper, but he felt that the chance to prove himself trustworthy was more important at this point. There would be plenty of time to learn from Frank and the rest of the detectives in the department, after all, McCormick would be with him for quite awhile...indefinitely actually, and at that he laughed out loud.

Then his thoughts turned to the case at hand. He hadn't told the kid he was tagging along on a police department investigation. Just that if he needed the judge, he should contact a certain Bed and Breakfast up the coast, where he was meeting an old friend. If McCormick did call, the manager had instructions to let Frank Harper know. This way the kid had no idea he was helping with the Farnell case. If there was anything he was sure of after working with McCormick for the past few months, it was that if he thought the judge was doing something even close to dangerous, he would make sure he was nearby. He didn't want the kid barreling into an undercover operation and messing up the investigation.

Arthur Farnell had somehow managed to break out of the local jail while he was awaiting a bail hearing. He'd had help, obviously, and Hardcastle was looking forward to finally implicating his girlfriend Trish in the escape. Once they had the evidence against her, he would enjoy seeing McCormick's reaction. The kid was too easily swayed by a pretty face and a sexy body.

And he had a score to settle with Farnell too. That weasel had set McCormick up to be killed by Terrance Harlow, without a second thought. If Milt had any reservations before, they were gone. The guy had no conscience, and he had to be taken down.

Frank had a man on the inside, someone close to Trish, and the operation was rapidly coming to a head. Milt wanted to be there when Farnell was finally captured.


	4. Command Center

Ch 4 Command Center

"Hey Milt," Frank Harper greeted him as he entered the command center. "Where's your shadow?"

"Home doing chores. This the new setup Frank?", Milt observed as he glanced around. "You sure you can get what you need from so far away?"

"We've got one man very close, but very concealed. Just a small receiver and amplifier. That way we can be less conspicuous. You know, when vans start to hang around, even on the next block, these guys get suspicious."

"Who's on the receiver?"

"Sid Evers, don't worry, he'll keep the transmission going. We're gonna get Farnell this time, and his inner circle too."

"Sid's about ready to retire, I thought he was taking it easy these days?"

Frank spared him a surprised glance and shake of his head.

"You think you're the only one who wants to get Farnell?"

"I guess a guy like that would collect a lot of enemies."

"He always has someone else doing his dirty work, but he's the one in charge. It does get under your skin."

"So who's on the inside?" Milt commented, as he took in all the equipment and technicians already listening in to the conversations.

Frank smiled, "Dopson happened to be in the right place at the right time and saved Trish's life a few days ago. It was perfect, and then he accepted a job offer and has been working for her ever since."

"For her?" Hardcastle's hopes soared at the prospect of nailing the woman who had seduced McCormick. "Does she trust him?"

Frank nodded, "yeah, we think so."

"How did he save her life?"

"We arranged an accident, and he stepped in to do the honors."

Milt smiled, "great! He's wired? Did you get anything yet?"

"He's wired, but nothing yet. Just a lot of meaningless conversation. A lot about you actually... according to Trish, Farnell hates you Milt."

"Good."

"So, you think McCormick'll still be there when you get done?" Frank asked as they slipped on the headsets to listen in on any idle conversation.

"Course he will," Milt answered without hesitation.

Frank rolled his eyes and glanced at Mike Delaney, who shrugged. Neither of them could quite understand why Hardcastle thought he could trust the ex-con, especially after JJ Beale's escapades. They had discussed this many times, and each had wondered privately if Hardcastle might be starting to lose his grip on reality. They had both tried to convince the judge to give up on this scheme he'd worked out with McCormick, but it hadn't made any difference. Even though they'd brought in quite a few criminals over the past 4 months, neither he nor Mike trusted McCormick.

Frank shook his head and whispered "stubborn old coot," and then began to concentrate on the conversation. Even though it was being continuously monitored and recorded, he still wanted to listen in when he could, to hear the inflection in any speech to help him more clearly identify intent.

He motioned for Milt to put on the headphones too and they spent the next half hour just listening.

ooOoo

"This isn't getting anywhere Frank," Milt commented finally.

"Well, Dopson's got another bug he'll plant somewhere once he gets an idea about what's going on. We're hoping that'll help."

"Well, that's good, because this won't get us anywhere. Trish is keeping him too far away from the important players. Farnell's not even there."

"Yeah, apparently he had some sort of errand this afternoon, and he took 3 of his thugs with him."

"That doesn't sound good, now does it?" Milt answered. After a long pause, the judge continued in a grumble, "he must pay em a lot."

Frank sighed, "well, he is a millionaire, got a book and everything."

"It's gonna be a long day," Hardcastle sighed as he continued to listen in.


	5. Abduction

Ch 5 Abduction

Mark McCormick picked up the list from the dining room table. It wasn't too long, but the tasks were disagreeable ones. He sighed, glancing toward the den, thinking about how much he wanted to relax on the sofa and watch TV.

Suddenly he shook his head and headed toward the back door. "Okay, you wanna see how much you can trust me, just wait!" he muttered angrily, then as he walked toward the tool shed he muttered again, "I must be crazy!"

Three hours later, sweating and exhausted, he stood up and stretched his back. The bush he had to remove was on the edge of the property. It was very overgrown and obviously needed to be pulled out. It was also very full of prickers, and despite the long sleeved shirt and gloves he'd put on for the job, he had several scratches on his arms and wrists. The sweat caused them to sting.

He looked up at the sky, enjoying the stretch and refusing to sit down. He knew if he did that he wouldn't want to get up again.

He stared at the spot where the bush had been and felt a little proud that he'd finished the job. Well, except for dragging away all the debris. The branches he'd had to cut in order to get at the center of the bush were strewn around the area. They would have to be dealt with, but the hot sun and the hard work had taken more out of him than he thought, so he headed toward the Gatehouse, ready for a long drink of water, and maybe he would sit down after all.

He headed in, enjoying the simple movement as he walked. He'd been in such a cramped position for so long while he attacked the center of the bush, that his muscles had stiffened up. After the debris was cleaned up, he planned to take a long, hot shower.

He pushed open the door of the Gatehouse and turned toward the blur that was moving toward his head. His arm shot up to block it as he lunged into the stranger. They fell together and Mark got in one good punch before two others grabbed him, one on each side, and pulled him off.

"Not bad Mr. Benchley," said a familiar voice from the center of the room, "or should I say Mr. McCormick?"

Mark struggled against Farnell's two musclemen briefly, before he realized there was no chance of breaking away.

"Farnell? How'd you get out so soon?"

Arthur Farnell smiled, "I have my ways."

"Sorry boss," came a weak voice from behind Mark, as the man he'd tackled stood up unsteadily. "I wasn't expecting him to do that."

"I told you about him Horace, you were supposed to expect anything."

"He's been workin in the sun for hours, Mr. Farnell, I just…"

"Go get the van Horace," Farnell interrupted.

"Yes sir," and the man hurried out the door to do as he was told.

"Agh," Mark groaned, as the two men holding him twisted his arms behind his back.

"You two won't let him get the better of you, will you?" Farnell asked.

Two grunts and more twisting were the only answers.

"Where's Hardcastle?" Farnell asked.

Mark's brain kicked into gear despite the pain in his arms and shoulders. Farnell wanted the judge and didn't know where he was. Well, he wasn't going to find out from him, Mark was sure of that.

"Cuff him!" Farnell spat out, and before he could think, Mark felt the cold metal around his wrists.

"I'm still waiting," Farnell said, a dead tone to his voice.

"You're the one who called me," Mark stated with certainty.

"Where's Hardcastle!" he nodded his head toward one of his goons, who punched Mark in the gut with such force that he doubled over.

"I don't know," Mark whispered, not trying to stand up again.

"Well, let's go into the main house and see what kind of mischief we can cause then."


	6. Framed

Ch 6 Framed

Farnell paused in the entryway, and glanced around before heading toward the den.

"I'm guessing there's a safe in this house. Most safe's are in people's bedrooms," he paused, "did you know that?" he asked McCormick.

Mark didn't answer. He stood in the center of the room, hands cuffed behind his back, a henchman on either side, feeling disgusted that Farnell was standing inside the judge's home… his home. He was also thinking desperately of how he could leave a message for the judge.

"But I'm guessing that a guy like Hardcastle would have a safe here, in his den. His lair so to speak." He motioned to Horace, who had just entered, "find the safe."

The energy that Horace applied to that task amazed McCormick. Clearly, he was trying to make up for allowing McCormick to get the better of him before. As he flung everything off the walls and threw it into a heap on the desk, he eventually came across the picture that could not be moved. A closer inspection revealed the safe behind it. Two minutes later, the safe was open and several envelopes were removed.

Farnell chuckled as he removed several large bills from one of the envelopes.

"Horace, keep the gloves on and bring me the tools Mr. McCormick was using on that bush," Farnell directed.

Mark watched him leave, a sinking feeling in his gut.

"He won't believe I did it," he bluffed.

"I think he will, what with you disappearing and all." Farnell answered in a conversational tone as he motioned to one of the goons.

"Joel? You do the honors. Now, where's Hardcastle?" Farnell asked again.

When he didn't answer, Joel began the beating. An explosion of pain, this time in his back, and with something harder than a fist. Mark's knees buckled as a wave of dizziness fell over him. Angered about his victim's collapse, Joel hit him again in the back, and the side.

"What's wrong with him, hold him up damn it, we need information from him," Farnell ordered.

They pulled him upright, and the rush in his ears increased as he went limp.

ooOoo

Mark slowly became aware that his face was on floor. He could hear sounds around him before his eyes were open.

"That's it. Horace, you're gonna wait for Hardcastle. When he slows down to turn in at the gate, that's when you get him. I don't care how long you have to wait, you hear?"

"Yes boss, I'll get it done."

"Get out there now," and Mark could hear the man slam the door behind him.

Mark lifted his head and turned to look at Farnell. The judge would be picked off as he turned into the driveway. At least there was another 24 hours or so until that would happen. And Mark would do everything he could to make sure it didn't.

"Well, well, the prince is awake. Where's Hardcastle Mr. Benchley?" Farnell asked in a fake friendly tone.

"Water," Mark whispered hoarsely.

There was silence as Farnell considered the request.

"Give him some," he finally ordered one of his goons. "I want you awake enough to understand what I just finished."

Mark was jerked up into a sitting position, and a glass of water tipped roughly so he could drink.

It was what he needed. Now he could concentrate on finding a way out of this mess.

"So what did you just finish?" he finally asked.

"The tools, with your prints on them are going to stay right here. No one will doubt that you got fed up with this set up as Hardcastle's stooge. He had $1,200 in the safe, just a bonus for me."

"If he gets past Horace, he'll find out that you stole it and cut out. If he doesn't get past Horace, well, then his friends will know what you really are… or were," he chuckled.

"Come on boys, let's get back to the Gatehouse and pack a suitcase for our Mr. Benchley. I want everyone to think he really took off."


	7. Torture

Ch 7 Torture

They shoved Mark roughly into the back of the van. He landed on his stomach, and stayed there, breathing hard. Farnell re-entered the Gatehouse and found a duffle bag to pack. He hurriedly threw as many of Mark's clothes in it that he could, and tossed it next to McCormick as he climbed in.

"Where's the judge?" Farnell asked again, turning to see his captive from the front seat.

"I told you I don't know. Agh!" Mark yelled in pain as air was forced out of his lungs. One of the goons had struck his back again and then sat heavily, his full weight on his chest and lower back.

ooOoo

"It sounds like Farnell's back," Frank said and Milt leaned forward to listen closer.

"He wouldn't tell me where Hardcastle was," Farnell's voice could be heard. "That's okay though, I left Horace at the entrance to Gulls Way. He'll get him when he comes home."

ooOoo

Milt sat up straight and reached over to grab Frank's arm. It sounded like they had McCormick, and he felt a sudden coldness squeezing his heart.

ooOoo

"Horace? He's not that reliable Arthur," Trish said.

"I know. You should've seen him… couldn't even take out an exhausted, dehydrated, gardener without help. And he had the element of surprise on his side."

ooOoo

Frank held up his hand and they both kept listening.

"You still don't know where Hardcastle is or when he's coming back?"

"No, but I'd be willing to bet that the kid knows. I want to take out Hardcastle without relying on Horace. Too much can go wrong when Horace is involved."

"So you're just leaving him there?"

"He knows he's just the insurance policy. He'll probably be glad to camp out there, he was embarrassed as hell that McCormick almost took him down."

ooOoo

Dopson watched the van pull up behind the house and hurried to help carry the half conscious passenger into the dwelling.

"Who's this Henry?" he asked the taller and larger of the goons. When there was no answer, he looked at the other, "Joel?"

"Arthur has a score to settle, that's all you need to know," was the answer.

"Okay, I don't care," the agent backed off. He turned and reached into his pocket, fingering the second microphone. In another minute he had placed it inside a lampshade on a table near the still figure on the floor. In this room, he felt there would be some incriminating evidence.

"Get out!" Farnell yelled as he entered, and Dopson joined Trish in the other room. Henry and Joel stayed, seeming to know what their boss was going to order next.

Farnell nudged McCormick with his toe. "I know you're awake McCormick."

Mark had managed to get his breath back during the ride in the van, but hadn't wanted his captors to know he was conscious. Now, icy water was splashed in his face and he opened his eyes.

"Where is Hardcastle? When is he due back?" Farnell asked again.

"I told you, I don't.."

The thud of the 2 by 4 against his arm stopped him cold.

"The next one will break bone," said the icy voice.

"I don't know!"

ooOoo

A loud crunch, "Aghhh!" Mark's cry filled the headphones and Milt moved suddenly as though he had absorbed the blow himself.

"Frank we have to get him out of there," Hardcastle ordered.

"Hold on Milt, just take it easy.."

"Take it easy? How am I supposed to take it easy Frank! Farnell will kill him if we don't start moving!"

"Milt, all he has to do is tell them where you are, it'll buy us some time."

"I want him out of there now Frank!"

ooOoo

"Get the hose," Farnell ordered, "now turn it on and shove it down his throat until he tells me where Hardcastle is."

"Wait.. wait.." Mark's voice, weak and shaking, could suddenly be heard throughout the room. Someone had turned on the loud-speaker in the command center.

"I told you we had time Milt. Let's get all available units headed out there now," Frank ordered.

ooOoo

"Well?" Farnell's voice was harsh.

"Las Vegas. He's in Vegas for a week," Mark lied breathlessly, desperate to stop the torture but still unwilling to say where Hardcastle was.

The sound of water rushing out of a hose could be heard, "I know that's a lie! I have friends in Vegas. Now how about this!"

The sound of water running and coughing and choking filled the room.

ooOoo

The hose blast hit Mark's face and he turned his head away as much as he could. The water pushed through his nose and seemed to be all around him. He coughed and tried to breath, but he was drowning in the middle of the room.

ooOoo

Hardcastle jumped up, "I have to get there Frank," fear making his voice rough.

"As soon as a car is ready, we'll go," Frank answered, continuing to listen.

ooOoo

"Where is Hardcastle!" they could all hear Farnell's frustration.

Coughing and gasping sounds answered the request, and then after the water was turned off, they heard the first loud, hesitant breath, and the most congested cough anyone had ever heard, a retching sound and after a moment, a whispered answer, "go to hell."

ooOoo

Frank Harper glanced over to Mike Delaney and then at Milt.

"Milt, he's not gonna give you up," Frank whispered, "is he?"

"No Frank, he's not!" and the tone left no room for argument.

"Okay," Frank began loudly, "first, let's make sure those units know what's at stake, getting McCormick out alive is the top priority. This is now a hostage situation. Second, get a message to Dopson so he can help from the inside."

Then, suddenly everyone was talking, and moving, and Hardcastle could tell they were working the problem. He backed away to let them work, fighting a painful lump in his throat.

"Come on Milt, let's go," Frank said and they climbed into the back of a black and white.

"It'll take too long Frank," Hardcastle whispered as he hustled along behind him. "It'll be over by the time we get there."

"There are 6 units arriving right now, Milt. They'll distract Farnell from Mark. We'll get him out," Frank answered, hoping he was right. Never in a million years had he expected the ex-con to protect Hardcastle this way. It was crazy, but it was obviously true.


	8. Rescue

Ch 8 Rescue

They arrived and screeched to a stop to the sound of gunfire, but thankfully it died down almost immediately. The judge started forward, but Frank held him back.

"We wait until the scene is secure," he ordered.

Milt stopped then, paralyzed, knowing that when he finally made it into the building, to where McCormick was being held, he might have to face his worst fear. His gut twisting into a painful mass, he waited with Frank, until they heard the all clear.

Then he ran inside.

The room was dim, but he could see the kid, and hear him coughing. God, he was coughing. An officer was unlocking the handcuffs and as Mark moved his arms, he groaned and half cried out, and Milt could see his left one was bent in an unnatural position, obviously broken. Milt pushed past the officer and knelt at McCormick's side.

"It's okay kiddo, there's an ambulance coming, you're gonna be okay," he said as he put his hand on Mark's shoulder.

He scanned his body, noting that he was in his gardening clothes and they were in tatters. There were a lot of bruises.

The kid was flat on his back, coughing again, a moist, weak, congested cough, but he was alive and Hardcastle was thankful.

Mark struggled to sit up, "help me," he asked in a weak voice. As Hardcastle reached behind him to support him, he gasped in pain.

The judge immediately moved to ease him back down, but McCormick clutched at him with his uninjured arm, still trying to sit up. Milt helped him as best he could, and when he was upright, he seemed to look better.

When McCormick didn't speak again, Hardcastle's worry spilled out, "talk to me kid."

Mark could hear him, but the pain from his numerous injuries took his breath away. Even so, he seemed to realize that he needed to speak.

"Usually you tell me to be quiet," his whisper was punctuated by a congested cough and a wave of pain. He gripped Hardcastle's arm tightly, until the worst was over.

"I just wanna be sure you're still with me kiddo," the judge whispered back.

"Can I have a day off the yardwork tomorrow?", McCormick joked, and coughed again.

Relief flooded through the judge, and he swiped at the annoying moisture in his eyes as he continued to hold the ex-con in an upright position. But, as the fear subsided, anger took its place.

"McCormick, what the hell were you thinking? That has got to be the stupidest thing you've ever done. Our deal did not include you letting yourself get killed!"

"Wasn't my fault…"

"I don't care whose fault it was," Hardcastle interrupted loudly, "you shoulda told em where I was! You aren't supposed to let yourself get killed! Do you hear me? That wasn't our deal.."

"Will you just stop!" McCormick's voice rose above Hardcastle's and when the judge paused, McCormick began again, loud enough for the officers in the room to give him part of their attention too.

He didn't think he had the energy for this, but the old coot was yelling at him and he couldn't control it.

"Our deal was that you go after the bad guys and I watch your back," he coughed once and breathed hard. "It wasn't that I watch your back until it gets dangerous," he paused for a breath, but his voice still filled the room, "or I watch your back unless I get hurt,... it was," he paused to breathe again, then spoke loudly and slowly, for effect, "I. Watch. Your. Back. Period. That was our deal!"

In the silence that followed, the police officers standing nearby glanced away from the intense exchange. Startled expressions were mirrored on all the faces that were gathered. When Frank motioned them to move away, they quickly left the room. Once outside, snippets of soft conversations drifted to Frank's ears, every one contained the same phrases: "Hardcastle's finally met his match," or "never thought I'd see old Hardcase take that from anybody."

"Alright, let's get this area wrapped up," Frank ordered, trying to deflect the attention from his friend. He shook his head, still finding it hard to believe himself.

Mark coughed again and then moaned, "judge?" he asked softly.

Milt's heart melted, "yeah," he whispered back as he heard another siren in the distance.

"My back," McCormick whispered.

"What?" Milt asked, uncertainly.

"Your turn to watch my back," he whispered again. "Look at my back."

Hardcastle leaned over Mark's shoulder and then focused in on a bloody area. He lifted his head and caught Frank Harper's eye, "we need an ambulance," he called to him.

"It's almost here," Frank replied immediately, motioning to one of his officers to guide the ambulance to their location.

"Don't move McCormick, just sit nice and still," Milt instructed softly.

Mark nodded, "what does it look like?" he whispered.

"It's bleeding, hard to tell how deep it went, so just don't move and I'll get you to a hospital."

Mark closed his eyes and leaned sideways against the judge, "okay," he whispered.

Milt held him still. "Just hang on," he whispered back.

A few minutes later, Mark could feel the pain in his arm suddenly getting worse and his stomach churning. "I'm gonna be sick," he whispered, as dizziness started to claim him and the world began to spin.

Hardcastle felt Mark sagging and watched as he became more and more pale. He was afraid to lay him on his back again, so he eased him across his lap as he felt him slump down, losing consciousness. He kept him as still as he could as he vomited. In this position, he could see more clearly the small red stain that surrounded the cut. There were bubbles forming each time McCormick took a breath and Milt understood that was a very bad sign. He held Mark close to him, and as still as possible as they waited for the ambulance.

Mark opened his eyes slowly after vomiting, unsure where he was at first. He felt denim fabric against his cheek, and suddenly realized the judge was holding him tightly, in a mostly horizontal position across his lap. Before he could give this much thought he heard the judge's voice, close by, repeating instructions, "easy, take it slow, go easy, look at his back." Then he felt himself being lifted gently onto a stretcher and positioned on his side.

"I'll see you at the hospital kiddo, you're gonna be okay." The familiar voice was whispering, close to his ear. Then a door slammed, an oxygen mask suddenly covered his face, and Mark could feel the vehicle start to move as a siren began to wail.


	9. Like A Lion

ch 9 Like a Lion

Milt stood watching the ambulance pull away, shaken by the experience.

"Here," Sandy said as he pushed a towel into his hand. "Wipe off your pants. I'll take you home so you can change."

Hardcastle just stared at him, it figured that Sandy would be here, once this was billed as a hostage situation. It also figured that Sandy would be most concerned with him getting cleaned up.

"I'm not going home, I'm going to the hospital," he said as he wiped of his pants.

"Milt, he threw up on your pants!" Sandy hissed.

"It's hardly anything!" Hardcastle answered angrily. He glanced around and walked over to the hose on the floor and used it to rinse off his clothes. An image of the water torturing his friend made him feel sick.

"Milt, you need clean clothes," Sandy lectured sternly.

Hardcastle ignored him and continued to rinse off his pants the best he could. When he finished, he searched the area, then headed over to Frank Harper.

"I need a ride to the hospital," he said as he approached.

"I'll take you," Frank answered immediately, and soon they were in a police cruiser, heading to St Mary's Emergency Room.

ooOoo

"I don't care what your business is, you aren't going in," Milt said for what felt like the hundredth time as he stood outside the door, a self appointed guard.

Inside the treatment room, McCormick was being examined, and nothing would get in the way of the doctors doing their work. Milt knew that placing a chest tube would help McCormick breathe easier, and that would be a top priority, but he had a feeling that his friend's injuries were more extensive than he knew.

Frank and Mike were there too, and were helping the hospital security guards herd the milling crowd of reporters, police officers, ambulance chasers and miscellaneous bystanders in front of Room #3 back to the waiting area.

Snippets of conversation reached Frank's ears as he moved the mass of people.

"He's like a lion guarding his cub, who would believe it?" one officer's voice asked in wonderment.

"Not me," Frank whispered to himself.

"Not you what?" Mike Delaney asked, coming up behind his long time friend.

Frank rubbed a hand across his mouth, "the way Milt is guarding this guy…. and he never gave him up Mike… they tortured him for God sakes."

"Yeah," Mike replied quietly, "I know."

"I think there's more to this kid than we ever thought," Frank continued.

"Yeah buddy, I know," Mike said quietly.


	10. Time

Ch 10 Time

Frank Harper knocked on the door as he stuck his head into room 517. He took in the chair beside the bed, and the familiar figure sitting there. "Milt?"

Hardcastle turned in the chair and then stood up, putting a finger against his lips. The figure in the hospital bed was sleeping, and he wanted him to stay that way.

Hardcastle walked into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.

"How's he doing?" Frank asked.

The judge sighed, "he's bad off Frank, they really did some damage. But, the doctor's say he should recover."

"That's good," and Frank put his hand on Hardcastle's shoulder, "are you alright?"

There was a long pause and the judge shook his head, "I hardly know."

"You were right about him Milt, I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

"You and Mike too."

"Yeah."

Milt shook his head. "How could you know? I mean, who would've figured that my crazy rehabilitation project would turn out like this?"

Frank shook his head, "I don't know," he whispered.

"The kid was ready to die for me… to protect me… I never asked him to do that Frank, I never expected him to do it…" Hardcastle shook his head in confusion.

"This is some partnership you've got Milt."

The judge sighed, then took a deep breath, determined to change the subject.

"How's the case?"

"Good. We've got enough on all of them, Farnell, Trish and his inner circle, enough to send them away for a long time."

"Good."

"Do you know your safe was broken into at Gulls Way?"

Milt shook his head, "no, was it when they took McCormick?"

"Yeah. We got Horace, he was waiting outside the gate to take you out. He told us how Farnell framed Mark for the robbery."

"The kid keeps mumbling when he's half awake, saying he didn't do it… that he would never steal from me… I didn't know what he was talkin about."

"Well, according to Horace, he was there, in cuffs, he knows Farnell was framing him… I guess he thought you'd believe it."

Silence.

"He protected you anyway," Frank finally continued.

"He doesn't know we heard what was happening with Farnell," Milt added. "I tried to tell him, but he was too out of it to understand. Just keeps sayin he didn't do it, pleading with me not to send him back to prison."

"Well, with everything he's been through, you can't blame him for being confused."

"Yeah, but confused or not, he's scared… of me."

Frank paused and stared at his long-time friend. Then, forcefully, he said, "Milt, you've got time. He's gonna recover, and you two can talk," another long pause, "and that's great news."

Milt smiled then, "you're right Frank, we do have time… and we will talk."

"Without yelling?"

Milt sent him a grimace, "yes, without yelling."

"Because I don't think he's gonna budge on the whole 'watching your back' thing, and to tell you the truth, with the kind of stuff you get into, you're lucky he takes it so seriously."


	11. Trust

Ch 11 Trust

McCormick slowly opened his eyes, shifted position, and moaned.

"Easy," Hardcastle leaned forward and spoke quickly.

Their eyes met and McCormick gave a slight nod.

Suddenly Hardcastle felt self conscious. Normally he would yell, lecture or generally bluster about something or other, but this time, he didn't quite know what to say. McCormick had protected him, even while being tortured. And even when he thought the judge would blame him for the robbery and send him back to prison. _How do I respond to that?_

"Farnell had one of his goons break into your safe judge, it wasn't me, I swear," McCormick whispered.

_That settled it. They needed to talk about this now, even if he didn't know what to say._

"Listen kid, stop worryin about that. I know he tried to frame you. I know you didn't do it kiddo."

"He left evidence, the gardening tools," Mark whispered.

"I know McCormick, it's okay. I know you didn't do it."

Mark's worried frown softened. "But, it's not 6 months yet," he said quietly.

"Six months? Oh," the judge replied, "ya know, I mighta been wrong about that kiddo."

The ex-con smiled, "you're not sending me back?"

"Geez McCormick, of course not."

"Thanks," Mark whispered and closed his eyes, concentrating on taking a few cautious breaths.

"Ya know, I used to think it would be hard for me to trust you, and easy for you to trust me. Turns out I had it backwards."

"I don't wanna go back to prison judge."

"You should've told Farnell where I was."

"He probably would've killed me anyway."

"He WAS killing you, what did you have to lose? He mighta stopped while he went looking for me."

"I'm your backup, I told you that judge, and I meant it." McCormick's eyes suddenly narrowed, "how did you know what he was doing to me?"

Hardcastle paused and stared at the kid. "The place was bugged. Frank and I and half the LAPD heard most of what happened, once they brought you to the house anyway. I know what they did to you kiddo, and I know you didn't give me up."

Silence.

"Well, I hope you learned your lesson," McCormick answered in a surprisingly loud voice.

"What lesson?"

"You need to keep me close by when you go riding off to do your Lone Ranger thing."

"I was just observing!"

"We're safer when we stay together, even I know that," Mark answered, and coughed several times, then grunted in pain.

There was silence, while the judge gave Mark time to recover.

"The truth is, I only left you alone at home to prove to you that I trusted you," Hardcastle admitted.

Mark smiled, "really?"

"Yeah," and the judge nodded grudgingly.

Suddenly, Mark closed his eyes and sank farther into the pillow.

Hardcastle's eyes narrowed and he stood to get a better look at McCormick.

"You okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"It just hurts," he whispered.

The judge pushed the call button, "I'll tell the nurse," he explained. He kept a worried eye on the ex-con while they waited for someone to answer.


	12. Revelation

Ch 12 Revelation

"I increased the pain medication, I think that's all he needed," the young doctor explained as he exited the room and met Hardcastle in the hall.

"He's not worse then?"

"No, I think the pain med started to wear off and the pain from all the injuries put together just hit him all of a sudden."

"What about the pneumonia?"

"We started treating that just as it was developing, his fever's down now, the antibiotics are working," the doctor explained. Then he looked at Hardcastle's worried expression and continued in an understanding voice. "I know he's in a lot of pain from all the soft tissue injuries, and it looks like he's in bad shape, but he'll recover. The collapsed lung and pneumonia are resolving and now that the cast is on his arm, the fracture can start to heal. Your son will recover and be good as new eventually."

His son? That sounded wrong, but the judge heard himself say "thank you doc," and marveled at his not jumping in automatically to correct the error. It seemed wrong, allowing the doctor to assume he was McCormick's father, but not so wrong that he wanted to correct him.

_I left McCormick alone to prove that I trusted him, but this is beyond trust… what is this anyway?_

He didn't have a word for it, and right now he didn't seem to have the ability to figure it out. He would have time for that later… indefinitely had been the timetable…. and he thought he would need at least that much time to understand what this relationship was all about.

For now, he would go back to his chair beside the bed so he would be close by, in case the kid needed him.

_In case he needs me? I better not overdo it or he might start thinking I need him. _

Back inside, he settled into the chair and reality set in again. The loudness of the chest tube suction assaulted his ears, and his eyes took in the IV tubing that snaked over the plaster cast and allowed the life-saving antibiotics to flow into his bloodstream.

_Not overdo it? I have to stay, I have no choice. I care about him. When did that happen? _

There was no answer to that one.

But he realized that he had his answer about how long he would stay. He would stay until McCormick felt better, however long that would take. And he would figure out what that meant...later.

The End


End file.
